City of Rising Dusk
by Gael Drake
Summary: Daniel Ravenkey's parents sent him to live in the Boston Institute when he was young. He knew they had kept secrets - from him, and maybe even from the Clave. He always wanted but never expected any answers. And then it began with a warning, a death, and the Seelie Court. He would have what he wished for, but not without a price.
1. Chapter 1

City of Rising Dusk

Chapter 1

The owner of Raven Used Bookstore was a warlock. He had an extra set of eyelids that closed sideways when he blinked, like a variety of animals that Daniel could think of. But he always minded his own business about the fact that Daniel was a Shadowhunter, so Daniel likewise left him to his own. None of the Silverwells except perhaps Katya would have done it, he knew, but he'd always felt a strange affection towards warlocks.

He thought sometimes that it was because they rarely knew their fathers – rarely even knew who they were. It was that idea of being somewhat parentless that caught his fancy and falsified a kind of kinship between Daniel and the Downworlders. But it was a ridiculous idea, so he resisted the urge to befriend warlocks, or even speak to them. Still, he came time and again to this bookshop – two stops on the T, the subway, away from the Boston Institute. He usually ran or walked the distance just to enter the shop, sniff the smell of once-loved pages, run his hands over the spines of a few books, and exchange a few bills with a warlock he had never once spoken to.

He did the same today, handing the warlock four books which he dutifully scanned, glancing at the titles as he did so.

But today, instead of telling Daniel the total as he had every other day, he remarked, "You're perceptive, for a Shadowhunter."

Daniel glanced backwards, making sure the shop was empty. It appeared to be, but when a room was filled with bookshelves, it was always hard to tell.

He met the warlock's foreign eyes. "What makes you say that?"

The warlock lifted a book. "You're interested in mundane history."

Daniel nodded curtly.

"Wherever you go, tread carefully…That will be $23.50," he added, decisively ending their brief exchange.

Daniel handed him the money and left, pondering the warlock's words.

Something must have changed for him to have said them, when he hadn't before. It wasn't the first time Daniel had bought a mundane history book either. He wasn't quite sure what it was about that that made him more perceptive than other Shadowhunters, since they all had a basic knowledge of mundane history and many of the new ones had been born mundane. But perhaps it wasn't his knowledge that caught the warlock's eye – perhaps it truly was his interest, which was less common.

But even then, he wondered, what was that warning supposed to mean? He placed his new books in his backpack, slung it across his shoulders, and took up a brisk jog. Maybe the point was that perceptive Shadowhunters had a tendency to see too much. Or maybe something was coming, and the warlock was trying to warn him to look out for it. But then, he should have pressed the warlock for more information and informed the Clave immediately. Not that he liked the Clave much. Daniel supposed that he was a bit of a backwards Shadowhunter in most regards except for the part when he was actually killing demons. He could do that bit all right.

As he neared the Institute, he put the encounter out of his mind, resolving not to tell the Silverwells yet. They'd want to know what it all meant and if they needed to take action, and he couldn't tell them that. Besides that, everyone was still touchy about things with demon blood in them, even though Daniel considered Sebastian Morgenstern to be a special, one-time-only, psychotic kind of case. What's more, he thought it proved that Shadowhunters needed to worry more about threats from within rather than conspiracy from the Downworld. But he was in the minority, so it was better to keep his mouth shut, at least until he had a clearer picture.

He arrived and climbed the front steps towards the entrance. On the outside, it was just another old, tall red brick building adorned with brass that had corroded until it turned green like the Statue of Liberty in New York. In other words, it was just like most of the other buildings in Cambridge and Boston, and no passerby would have given it a second glance. Just for extra measure, there was a glamour on it so that mundane would see a sign reading "CONDEMNED. DO NOT ENTER."

Daniel opened the door and stepped inside to ornate wooden halls and ceilings, adorned with gold and tapestries of Shadowhunter history. This had become his home. He had been sent away, six years ago, from Ireland with no explanation before departure or since arrival. He had asked and begged his parents, and even threatened to cry a little, but nothing could convince them to tell him why. He had never heard from them again. Someone's feet pattered on the staircase.

"Please tell me you didn't buy _more_ books to keep under your bed," Katya implored.

Dodging past her, Daniel replied, "No, I bought them to read. There are plenty of other things I would collect if I just wanted to keep them under my bed. Socks, for example. Or dust bunnies."

"Hilarious, Daniel," she replied. "Why do you buy them when we have a whole library here? _In _the Institute?"

They started up the staircase together. "Because I obviously like to spend mundane money to make sure we have two of every book. Katya, the things I read about aren't things we have books on already."

"The library's so huge you can't possibly be sure."

Daniel rolled his eyes. Katya hated studying. She was more of a take-charge-and-kill-something kind of person. He doubted she had been in the library more than six times since he had met her, and he didn't believe she had picked up more than four books from it.

"It's organized. I checked the sections they would be in. There are no books about them. Ergo, I buy some."

"Oh, nice Latin. Would it kill you to stop studying once in a while?" she huffed.

Daniel grinned. "We all speak some Latin. You speak it. Maybe you should take a break yourself."

Katya perked up instantly. "I could go for that. Want to practice some flips?"

Daniel shook his head in false despair. "All right, all right. Just let me stop by my room. I need to change and drop off some dust bunnies underneath my bed."

"Fine, but hurry."

"Yes, Your Majesty," he said with a sweeping bow.

Then he took off before Katya could slap him and locked himself in his room. He stacked his books neatly under his bed, leaned back against his bed, and took a deep breath. Then, because Katya was probably getting impatient, he stripped off his old clothes and changed into lightweight sweatpants and a dark grey t-shirt that very nearly matched his eyes. By the time he left the room and met up with her, he could tell she was about ready to start breaking down his door with a battering ram.

"What took you so long?" she grumbled, leading the way towards the training room.

Daniel ambled on leisurely behind her. "I stopped to smell a few roses on the way. They're lovely this time of year."

Katya cracked a smile. "What color were they?"

"They were blue."

"Pale or dark?"

"Neither. Just bright. There were some little raindrops still sparkling on them, so they looked just like the ocean at noon."

"What did they smell like?"

"Sweet, but it was a gentle smell."

"How many were there?"

"Five. They were growing in a cluster together on one rosebush."

"Did they have thorns?"

"Yes. All the stems of the most beautiful roses do."

"What did the petals feel like?"

"Smooth and wet, like running your hand across the surface of the Charles River."

Katya shook her head in disbelief and chuckled softly. "I can't believe you manage to give me different answers every time. I don't think you've 'seen' the same roses twice."

It was a tradition of theirs, when they were going anywhere together, to have that exchange. When Daniel had first moved to the Institute, she had complained that he was slow and asked that same question – "What took you so long?" He had replied with the same answer, and she had asked him, sarcastically, what the roses looked like. When he'd come up with a response, she had kept asking him questions about them, trying to stump him, but he'd answered them all. So it had become customary for Daniel to describe different roses every time she asked.

He laughed. "There are so many things to say. It's a lot easier than you'd think, once you get started. But we're here, anyway."

"_Finally_," she grumbled.

Daniel just grinned at her and took his time climbing up to the rafters and affixing a cord around his waist. He thought she would have punched him, except that he would have fallen to his death from the beam. Sure enough, as soon as the cord was properly attached to his waist, she shoved him, and he fell lightly through the air.

He loved that sensation of weightlessness, that idea that he was not in control and he did not need to be. He savored the rush of air around his body and the pure speed of the movement. Then, just before the cord was about to pull taut, he twisted his feet towards the wall and pushed off, flipping towards the wall to his right. He felt Katya leap off nearby, and they flipped and twisted over and around each other, managing to never tangle their cords or collide with each other. Even if they didn't understand each other, when they were training he felt as if he _knew_ her. Each of their movements was smooth and coordinated. They never faltered or doubted, even when they passed within inches of each other. It was electric.

Daniel was aware of someone entering the room, but he didn't pay much attention to it until the man said sharply, "Katya! Daniel! Listen to me!"

They both flipped back up to the rafters and sat down on one of the beams. "What is it, Father?" Katya asked.

Elijah, the Head of the Institute and Katya's father, looked up at them with grave eyes. "Come down here, both of you. I want you to hear me well."

They did as he asked. Whenever he was _that_ serious, one did well to obey him. Something must have been seriously wrong.

"Early this morning, I sent Jacob to investigate a disturbance over by the Eliot Bridge…A member of the Conclave just reported that they found him – his body – in the river."

Katya swallowed hard. Jacob Silverwell was her older brother. He had just turned eighteen a few weeks ago. They had both seen him just last night over dinner. Jacob had been very much alive then, and capable of eating half the food at the meal without anyone else's help. No one had expected him to die so soon, even if he had lived a Shadowhunter's life. Katya dodged around her father and ran from the training room. Elijah let her go. But Daniel stood still, his eyes cast downwards towards the floor.

"How did he die?"

Elijah looked away from him. "There were no visible injuries on him…so our best guess is that he drowned."

"But you know he wouldn't have drowned by himself. You know that something else had to be involved. Otherwise he would have just _swum_."

"I know."

Daniel felt sicker by the moment. Elijah didn't know that he had been close for most of the day. The Eliot Bridge was perhaps a mile away from the bookstore. If he'd known, he could have been there in minutes. And…what if the warlock had known? What if he had tried to warn Daniel because he knew something had happened to another Shadowhunter?

"What sort of disturbance was it?"

"Demonic in origin, but other than that, I don't know. I received a message from a member of the Conclave asking me to send someone to look into it. I should have gone with him."

"…Maybe."

Daniel walked out of the training room, leaving Elijah in solitude. He thought about finding Katya, but then decided she would rather be left alone. So he went back up to his room to put on his gear. He couldn't turn back the clock and save Jacob, but he could go to the bridge and look for the cause of his death. He knew it was reckless, and that it was, in fact, exactly opposite to the warlock's warning, but he honestly didn't care. He had the strange feeling, an intuition perhaps, that he was meant to go to the Eliot Bridge. No harm would come to him there. And as usual, he trusted the feeling. But just to be safe, he grabbed his stele and a seraph blade. Then he glamoured himself so that he could sneak onto the T and arrive more quickly.

Everything seemed peaceful when he climbed down to the edge of the river. His sensor was quiet. The water rippled gently as a breeze swept across it. There were no signs of a struggle, or even of Jacob ever having been there. On a whim, he knelt down and let his fingers dip into the surface of the water. He sensed something appear behind him.

It was a faerie. She had soft hair like starlight that shimmered when the wind blew through it, and her eyes constantly changed color. She smiled at him.

"Well met. My queen would speak with you," she said by way of greeting.

Daniel looked her over. "Well met. Why would she choose to speak with me, when my kin came here today only to die?"

She stepped closer to him. "That was not our doing. And it is not my place to explain the will of my lady."

He considered it. The Fey Folk could not lie. So if here blood was truly that of a faerie, she was telling the truth about Jacob's death.

"Very well. If you may, please take me to her."

She offered him her hand. He took it cautiously, noting the light, slender build of her fingers. Then she took a step into the water, and the world dissolved around him. When it reformed, he stood at one end of a long corridor whose dirt walls were overlaid with twisting green vines.

"Come," the faerie said, skimming lightly down the corridor.

He followed her silently, taking in the surroundings. There was a sweetness in the air that he would not have expected from a place so deep below ground. And yet it seemed somehow natural to him, as if he had smelled it before, once upon a dream.

The corridor bent sharply, and then an oaken door appeared in front of them. It swung open without anyone touching it, revealing a magnificent room twined with fading vines and flowers of every type and shade Daniel could imagine. It instantly gave him a thousand new ideas for his game with Katya. He was almost unaware of the half-smile sliding across his face.

"This is where I leave you," the faerie said. "My queen awaits you within."

Daniel nodded. "I thank you for guiding me."

She smiled and darted away fleetly. Daniel entered and felt the door swing closed behind him. Normally this would have worried him, but he now felt unusually safe. He looked to his right and saw the Seelie Queen, red-haired and splendid rising from where she had been reclining amongst satin sheets. He bowed low.

"Well met, Your Majesty."

She considered him with shockingly blue eyes. "Well met, Daniel Ravenkey. It pleases me to admit that you are surprisingly well-mannered for one of your kind."

He smiled, and as if led by someone else, replied, "I would not do any less for the Queen of the Seelie Court."

She nodded politely. "I had rather hoped that you would come. For, you see, child, I have taken in interest in you for several years. You seem unique among your Conclave."

"Forgive me, Your Majesty, but you sound rather like a warlock I spoke with earlier today."

"Erion Rune? The owner of that little shop that you are so fond of?" There was a touch of condescension to her voice.

He hardly wondered how she knew that because for the first time, the warlock had a name. But more than that, despite everything anyone had ever told him about the Fey Folk, he felt safe. He had been told that they were deceptive and twisted speech, but so far both the girl and the Queen seemed to have been purely honest with him. They took an interest in him where others never had. And they had said that Jacob's death was not their doing.

"Yes, he's the one. He told me I was perceptive for a Shadowhunter."

The Queen observed him carefully, following the lines of his body with captivating eyes. "That you are, my child. And so has your family always been just a step closer to us than most of the Nephilim."

He stiffened slightly. "My family. You know about my family, Your Majesty?"

She smiled. "Ravenkey. A dark name for a dark past – and a dark child. You are so dark, Daniel Ravenkey, and yet your eyes are not quite black. Not quite."

His gentle manners seemed to abandon him. "P-please, Your Majesty. My family – a dark past? What do you mean? I –"

She laughed, a soft charming sound that seemed to echo off the walls. "Let that wait for another time – for I think I must summon you again. Is there not another matter for which you desire answers?"

Daniel took a deep breath. All those years, all that silence, and now he was standing before someone who knew what it all meant. He longed to press her for another answer, but she had closed the topic quite clearly. And he knew better than to disobey the Seelie Queen and risk invoking her anger. Aside from that, he wanted nothing more than to keep himself in her favor. He felt that it would leave him empty to lose this new companionship, although he could not exactly name the reasons. But she was right; he had come to the river's edge to investigate a somber matter.

"Yes, of course, Your Majesty," he said, recovering himself. "I hope that you might tell me any knowledge you have of Jacob Silverwell's death."

The words did not feel right on his tongue. Jacob could not possibly be dead. He could be a jokester that might claim death as a prank, but he was too…alive…to have died. It was true, Daniel thought for a moment, that he had not seen the body; yet he also felt that seeing Jacob's corpse would not have changed anything. It would only give him one more nightmare.

She nodded once. "The boy was most unfortunate. However it was, in part, a very natural death – a lion may fight a lion and a wolf may slay a wolf."

"…It was a Shadowhunter," Daniel whispered.

The Queen smiled mirthlessly. "Very good, child."

"But, Majesty, how? There were no wounds on him, nor bruises…"

She did not answer immediately, but a realization dawned on Daniel during her silence. He had a feeling that she was waiting for him to think of it. He also had a feeling that whoever had done this was sickeningly clever. He admired the thought put into the murder, and then reviled himself for it.

He said slowly, "But there were wounds, weren't there? His killer probably…knocked him out, and then used an _iratze_ to heal him. But Jason…But he…was still unconscious. So the killer drowned him – maybe weighted the body…"

He wondered if Jacob woke before he died. Maybe he had found himself suffocating in the cold darkness, watching the light disappear above him. Daniel held himself rigidly to avoid shivering or crying. He told himself that Jason probably had not woken before his death. He had probably died unconsciously, painlessly. He blinked several times and looked back up at the Queen.

"You are, indeed, quite perceptive."

He could not read emotion in her eyes. A twinge of doubt jutted into his mind, but he ignored it. She had taken a liking to him, and he would not ruin it. But still…

"Majesty," he began carefully, "I do not mean to doubt you, and have nothing but respect and gratitude for what information you have given me today; still, I cannot in good conscience refrain from asking you this question: Why did one of your courtiers not notify the Clave of what had happened?"

Her eyes narrowed slightly, but she resumed her relaxed, confident position almost immediately. "Since Jonathan Morgenstern's downfall, my Court has fallen out of favor with the Clave. If I had informed your kind of the circumstances of the boy's death, they would not believe me, for I have no proof of its occurrence. Remember child – no mark was left upon his body. The Clave would blame my Fey Folk for his death and be not swayed by any reason. More restrictions would fall upon us. This has no benefit to my people – or to yours."

Daniel nodded, placated. "Thank you. I had not thought it through."

The Seelie Queen inclined her head. "Your Nephilim, I think, must wonder of your whereabouts."

"Yes, you are quite correct. I must return to them, but I thank you again for the help that you have given me. I shall not forget it."

The Queen smiled, captivating Daniel for a moment. "You have such pretty manners for a mortal. I think that I _shall_ call on you again. Step closer, child."

He did, approaching her until she bade him stop. Then she removed a chain with an iridescent pendant shaped to create the impression of intricate twists, knots, and curves. Daniel had never seen anything quite like it. She placed it around his neck, and he felt the gentle weight of it as it settled into place. He touched the pendant.

"Majesty, what purpose does this serve? It is more beautiful than any necklace I have ever seen."

She explained, "Wear this always, and when I desire to speak again with you, it shall pulse against your skin. Touch the jewel, and it shall bring you to my Court. Your location shall not matter."

Daniel broke a soft smile. "I thank you greatly for this gift."

The Queen nodded and called for her servant to take Daniel back to the surface. Daniel longed to look into the faerie's eyes as though enchanted by the ever-changing colors. But he shook the idea off as creepy and disturbing and simply followed her out instead. As she began to slow down, she turned towards him.

"Daniel Ravenkey, it would please me to be called Amaranth," she said.

He smiled. "The undying flower. Very well. Then please, call me only Raven."

She returned his smile slyly. "Raven. Then you do not wish for me to call you Daniel?"

"Nevermore," he said softly.

She nodded knowingly, clearly pleased with him. His lips quirked upward on one side.

Amaranth replied, "Good, the name fits you well. Follow this staircase; it will take you to the surface."

He was about to ask her what staircase she was referring to when he noticed a stone staircase engraved with runes he had not seen before and did not understand. Daniel was certain it had not been there a moment ago. He looked back to say goodbye to her, but she had already disappeared. So, he turned back around and mounted the steps. He climbed them one-by-one, wondering how many it would take to return him to the world he knew. Then, a spiraling rune at his feet seemed to glow, and the world spiraled with it. When everything straightened, Daniel stood at the shore of the Charles once again.

The sun was setting by the time he got to the T. It was already down when he returned to the Institute. He tucked the Queen's jewel beneath his shirt and took a quick look at the darkening blue sky before he entered. As he stepped inside, the weight of everything that had happened that day seemed to bear down upon him and he felt heavy.

The front room was empty and all too grand, like a funeral, when he arrived. It wasn't until he was halfway up the staircase that he encountered another soul. Jonah, Katya's nine-year-old brother, met him. His face was tearstained, and his curly blond hair was tousled and messy.

"Where have you _been_?" he said, wide-eyed. "The Conclave is having a meeting, and Katya is crying, and no one will talk to me. I wanted you or Jacob, but you weren't here, and Jacob is…" He broke off and sniffled.

Daniel ruffled Jonah's hair, making it even worse, and answered, "I'll talk to you. Let's come on up to my room. Has anyone besides you noticed that I'm gone?"

Jonah shook his head. "I don't think so. Everyone's all too busy."

Daniel nodded, relieved that he wouldn't have to explain away his whereabouts to anyone. He picked up the little boy and carried him the rest of the way. Inside his room, he set him down upon his bed and rooted in his dresser for pajama bottoms and a loose t-shirt.

He pointed at his bathroom and said, "I'm just going to go change, but then I'll be right out, okay?"

Jonah nodded. Daniel changed quickly and came back out to discover Jonah curled up like a cat on his bed. He sat down by his feet. He wasn't sure whether or not Jonah was asleep, so he didn't speak for a long while. Then, a little hand tugged on his sleeve. He turned and looked at the little boy.

"You're never scared by anything, are you?"

Daniel shook his head. "Maybe nothing scares me, but a lot of things terrify me."

"You don't act like it."

"My family didn't like for me to do that."

"Your old family?"

"That one."

Jonah nodded and yawned. Daniel soothed him to sleep with an old Irish fairytale that his mother had taught him. When Jonah was fast asleep and breathing deeply, Daniel mused silently that one day the story would lose its charm for the boy – he would start to wonder if that story, like so many others, were true. But for now, it wasn't part of a web of possibility, it was just a tale. Just as his world was smaller than Daniel's; not so tangled and complicated with an unknown past and an even less certain future. Not so tangled in the Seelie Court and loyalty to the Clave, as Daniel sensed his world was becoming. Daniel's world was spiraling slowly outward, into infinity and chaos, as mundane scientists said the universe was doing with every passing moment. But even Jonah's world had grown today, through the uncertainty of his brother's death, and there was no going back. Daniel looked at the small, sleeping boy. Then he pulled a blanket over him, lay down with his back to him, and did not sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

_The Marks burned on his skin as his father pressed the stele against his back, between the shoulder blades. Daniel's muscles tensed and he bit back a cry of pain. His father had warned him it would hurt, but he hadn't said how much. He closed his eyes and bit his lip. Then the pressure was gone and the burning sensation left with it._

_ "I told you he was too young," chided his mother. She handed him his shirt._

_ "He's not too young," Father replied. "I told you. I was this young, myself. It's what our family does."_

_ "That doesn't mean it should be done."_

_ Surprising even himself, Daniel said, "I want to do it."_

_ After a moment's pause, Father answered, "You see, that settles it. The lad wants to."_

_ Mother bit back her distaste and nodded._

_ Daniel looked up at his father with solemn dark eyes. "What's next, Father?"_

Daniel sat up slowly and looked around. His room was still dark with night. The only light in the room came from moonlight filtering in around the edges of his curtains. His stele was on his desk next to the book detailing the Romanov dynasty that he'd been reading. The czars of Russia were rather interesting to him. He looked back at his bed. Jonah slept at the foot like a little cat. He'd been sleeping in Daniel's room for the last few days.

Daniel knew that the little boy used to sleep in Jacob's room fairly often, so he didn't object. Besides, Jonah seemed to like it when he told him bedtime stories in his Irish accent. That was nice. Most of the time, having the lingering traces of an Irish accent in Boston made him feel like an outsider, so it was a relief to know that someone found it pleasant.

He fingered the chain around his neck and started to think about the dream. He had been eight then, and it had happened only a few months before his parents had sent him away. On the first day, he had received the Voyance rune, the one all Shadowhunters had on the back of their hand. Most of them, however, had not received it until they were eleven or twelve. The Marks were often more painful if given younger, and it was not commonplace for children as young as Daniel had been to start training. Except in the Ravenkey family. His father had insisted that Ravenkey children had received their first Marks at eight, and begun training at the same age for generations.

There was something odd about that. At the time, he'd only been thinking to make his father proud, and the thought of being more advanced than other boys his age had pleased him immensely. But now, looking back on it, he couldn't see why it was necessary. The Seelie Queen's words, calling his a "dark family," teased at him. But there was nothing particularly dark about it to Daniel, either. It had hurt a little; that was all. He shook his head and fingered the chain around his neck. He looked at Jonah again. He was sound asleep.

Careful not to make any noise, he opened his closet door and removed his gear. Then he stepped into the bathroom and started to change. He left the door open just a sliver to avoid causing it to click. If Jonah woke up, Daniel would be stuck in his room, with his dreams chasing his memories. It would be well worth the scant effort he was putting in to avoid that. In fact, he had decided, it would be worth a lot more than that for the chance to clear his head and focus on something clear-cut and simple. He folded his pajamas neatly and set them in the corner of the room. Leaving the bathroom, he picked up his stele, his Sensor, and a witchlight. Then he exited the bedroom.

Of course, he would have to stop by the weapons room to pick up a seraph blade or two. He started in that direction, stopped, and headed in the opposite direction. Five steps later he stopped again and cursed under his breath. He looked back, then forward, and headed towards Katya's bedroom. When he arrived, his hand hesitated just before the door. Then he knocked as softly as he could – and still be heard – and whispered her name. He did this four times before she opened the door.

Her hair was down and slightly tangled, and her eyes were groggy and tired. They were also still somewhat red from all the crying she'd been doing in the last few days. Daniel felt a pang of guilt in his chest. He had not cried once for Jacob's death. He had wanted to, at times, but he felt too hollow, and there were no tears. Katya looked him up and down. Her eyebrows furrowed.

"What're you _doing_?" she whispered, almost furiously.

"Going hunting. I need to clear my head…Come with?" Unexpectedly, she started to laugh. "What?"

"It's just that…when most boys come to a girl's room in the middle of the night, that's not what they want."

Daniel blushed. "You _know_ I'm not…not like that."

She laughed again. "You're cute when you're embarrassed. You get all Irish."

"I'm always Irish."

"Okay, you _sound_ more Irish. Your accent gets stronger."

He sighed. "Anyway, are you coming or not?"

She bit the inside of her cheek. After a moment, she said, "All right. Just give me a few minutes to get ready. I'm a mess."

"Yes, you are," Daniel replied by way of revenge.

"Also not what boys usually say to girls, Ravenkey."

"Well, I'm sorry if you're disappointed."

"Did I say that?"

"You sounded disappointed."

"Oh shut up and let me get dressed." She pointed at her bed. "Sit. Stay."

He shrugged and sat down. "I suppose when we leave, it will be, 'Mush'?"

Katya's back was turned to him, but he knew she was rolling her eyes.

True to her word, it only took a few minutes for her to dress and prepare her things. They had Marked each other while they were still in her room, and their upper bodies were twined with intricate black runes. Now they stood in the weapons room, surveying the choices. There were weapons of every variety, but they both decided for the most basic of Shadowhunter weapons – two seraph blades each. One, they each left in their belts with their steles and, in Daniel's case, a knife. The other they kept in one hand, ready to be named at any moment.

Once they had left the Institute, Daniel carried his witchlight in the other hand, and Katya carried her Sensor. They navigated the streets under the calm night and the charm of a glamour, tuning out the ambient chatter of Boston's nightlife. Everything seemed to be safe and in tune in the immediate area. Not even the sounds of a mundane fight could be heard. They proceeded onwards, towards Cambridge. Moonlight illuminated oxidized metal adorning the bricks, and reflected off the windows of shops. They passed a convenience store; walked down a little farther. The Harvard Bridge was close now, and once they crossed it, they would be on MIT's campus.

The Sensor pulsed at the edge of the Bridge. Daniel and Katya looked around sharply and named their blades. Nothing was visible, and most likely nothing would be until it attacked. Daniel raised the blade and stepped onto the Bridge. Nothing happened. They glanced around carefully and then took a few steps forward. The two exchanged a tense look and kept moving. Then, Daniel extended a hand to stop Katya. He gestured to his left.

She muttered, "There's nothing – "

Then the water exploded from beneath them. They both jumped back as a demon landed on the edge of the bridge. It had a sharp fin in the middle of its back, rather like a shark, and thick, ropy appendages with three fingers each. They had wickedly sharp claws at each end. Its eyes were milky and seemed unfocused, but its mouth was open and its tongue flicked out, like a snake's. Daniel and Katya started to circle it in opposite directions. It made a sound somewhere between a hiss and a growl and leaped directly at Katya.

She flipped out of the way at the same time that another demon jumped out from the other side of the bridge. Daniel turned just as it was about to land on him, rolled beneath, and slashed at it from behind. It evaded his strike and struck at him. He back flipped and landed exactly on the two-hundred-sixty-fourth Smoot marking. Whoever had thought, Daniel mused in a split second, to measure the length of a bridge by the height of a man named Smoot was a genius. The next second, he pushed of the side of the bridge to jump around the demon and saw a third demon six Smoots ahead of him.

"Katya!" he shouted. "Smoot 271!"

By some miracle, she understood him and managed to cut off the arm of the new demon as it lashed out in her direction. Daniel ran closer to Katya, drawing his demon with him. As it bounded towards him, he pushed off the wall again, but this time caught its fin and used that to launch him onto its back. From there, he raised his seraph blade high and plunged it into the demon's neck, jumping off before too much blood could spatter on his gear. One demon down.

The one with the missing limb was next, falling straight into Katya's trap. She dodged it easily and neatly decapitated it. Some blood spattered her arm, but the burns wouldn't be bad. The gear kept most of it from reaching her skin.

Now she and Daniel confronted the third and final demon from opposite sides. It faced Katya, so Daniel lunged at it. It swiped at him with a back claw, and he spun out of the way. Katya slashed at it but missed as it swung to face Daniel. Daniel rolled beneath it as it jumped, and came up neatly on the other side. He sidestepped quickly to keep it cornered. It was still focused on him. Katya raised her blade and moved in for the kill.

"Hey!" a voice called from behind her.

She turned on instinct at the figure running at them. So did the demon, pouncing and pinning Katya beneath it. She shrieked, more out of surprise than fear. Without so much as a glance towards the interrupter, Daniel leaped at the demon and tackled it off Katya. They rolled from the momentum until they collided with a shock against the wall of the bridge, causing Daniel to drop his seraph blade. He cursed.

Then, he kicked the demon and reached for the blade, but a claw raked into his side. He flailed backward again, trying to knock the demon away from him. His strikes stunned the demon for less than a second, but that was all he needed to grab hold of the blade and flip over. He thrust it upward just in time for the demon to fall on top of it an impale itself. He grimaced as the blood ran down and soaked through his sleeves, sizzling against his skin as it did so.

Katya and the mystery figure freed Daniel and helped him up. He looked up to identify the figure.

"Leah Runeshade," he said with a tone of mild surprise.

She was a member of the Conclave who spent most of her time patrolling Quincy. He wondered what she was doing in this part of Boston.

"Daniel Ravenkey." She did not sound amused.

"Um, hello, Leah," piped up Katya. Leah sent her a withering stare.

Then she gave an equal glare to Daniel. "What, _exactly_, are you two doing out here?"

"Hunting demons," Daniel said, trying not to flinch.

She turned to Katya. "Does your father know?"

Katya looked down, giving Leah all the answer she needed.

"You could have been killed! You are fourteen and fifteen years old! You probably don't even know what kind of demons those were! What were you thinking? The last thing the Conclave needs right now is to have more children killed and thrown into the Charles!" Katya and Daniel both flinched. "You should be ashamed of yourselves. Anything could have gone wrong out here. Elijah is under enough stress as it is, and he shouldn't have to worry about the children under his care running off in the middle of the night. You're foolish and an embarrassment to the name of the Nephilim and – and Daniel, you're smoking."

Daniel nodded uncomfortably. The wound on his side was burning – actually starting to burn and smoke around the edges. It was making it hard to concentrate on how much of a disgrace he was. He grabbed Katya's arm to keep himself steady. Leah pulled out her stele.

"I suppose I had better heal you before you burn to death."

She sounded slightly resentful of the inconvenience. All the same, she slapped an _iratze_ on him. The wound started to close, and the pain faded quickly. Daniel let go of Katya and stood upright, sighing in relief.

"Now," Leah continued, "we're heading back to the Institute before you can trip and fall on your own blades, or else catch fire again."

* * *

She pocketed her stele and grabbed them each firmly by the arm to lead them away.

"How could either of you, for one moment, think it was acceptable to do this?!" Elijah shouted while his sister, Lydia, stared them down.

"I, er, I…" Daniel had no answer. He hadn't been thinking of that when he decided to go hunting.

"Were you even thinking _at all_?" Lydia added.

Katya answered, "N-not really, Aunt Lydia. We just – "

"You just _what_?" snapped Elijah. "You thought you'd play heroes and go kill some demons? You thought you'd roam around the city at night, and you'd just happen to bring along all your gear and your weapons?"

He was white with anger, and Daniel had never seen him looking like this. Not three years ago during the Dark War, not when Jacob had died… This was different.

"No, Elijah," Daniel said softly.

"No, of course not," he repeated sarcastically. "You could both have died! Do you know what that would have done to us – to the Conclave? Did you even give a thought to Jacob when you left? I thought better of both of you – especially you, Daniel! I always thought you were responsible, but it seems I was wrong."

Now did not seem like a good time to Daniel to mention that it had all been his idea.

Instead, he said, "I'm sorry."

"'Sorry' doesn't cover it!" Lydia yelled. "'Sorry' wouldn't bring you back to life or make your hearts start beating again. I expect you both to go back up to your rooms and stay there until I tell you otherwise – even if that's next week! And we will be having a serious discussion about this later. You're both suspended from all training until further notice."

"But Aunt Lydia," Katya protested weakly.

"No arguments," Elijah commanded. "Do as your aunt says."

Katya and Daniel both nodded timidly.

"Now off to bed – both of you!"

They scampered up the stairs together and separated as they went down the hall. Daniel heard the click of Katya's door, and glanced over his shoulder to see if Lydia or Elijah were following him. There was no one in sight. He turned his doorknob and started to open the door, but then clicked it shut on impulse and turned to sneak back down the stairs. He renewed his rune for silent walking just to be sure.

Fortunately, no one was waiting for him on the staircase, and he crept back down to the first floor. He glanced around the corner. Lydia and Elijah were still there, and he pulled back quickly, lest they see him. Moments later, they started to speak.

"You know this doesn't look good," Lydia said in a low voice.

Elijah answered tersely, "We'll manage."

"No, I don't think you understand what I mean."

"Well, explain then," he snapped.

Lydia took a deep breath. "They couldn't give us an answer for why they were out. This isn't the first time Daniel's been unaccounted for, but we never thought it meant anything before. And surely you think they would know better, after Jacob…?"

It was as if Daniel couldn't breathe. What was she suggesting? True, he hadn't been able to explain why they'd gone hunting, but that was simply because his best reason was that he wanted to. He hadn't considered the consequences or the danger when he'd decided to do it. He'd just wanted to get _out_. And usually when he was gone, it was just to buy more mundane books. He kept it a secret, except from Katya, because most Shadowhunters were so disdainful of mundanes.

"They're kids, under a lot of stress. They made a mistake."

"_You_ ought to know better than that, Elijah. Daniel's always been so level-headed. You said so yourself. It's not like him to do something like this, without thinking of the consequences."

"It's also not like Jacob to be dead." Elijah's voice broke on the last word. "Daniel's a good boy. He wouldn't be involved in…things."

Lydia hesitated but then pressed on with her lecture. "You have to consider his…history. What with what he did tonight, and that, who knows? We don't know what it was like for him before he came here."

There was a long, uncomfortable pause. Daniel's legs felt shaky. He wanted to go back upstairs, but he couldn't make himself move. This made no sense.

Elijah answered in a low, wavering voice. "No…It couldn't be."

Daniel heard movement, and he jolted back to life. He sprinted up the stairs before either of them could see him and locked himself safely back in his room. He looked over his shoulder. Jonah was still sleeping like a cat at the foot of the bed. Daniel wondered briefly if he had woken up at all while he was gone. Probably not. He was sound asleep and in the same position he had been in when Daniel left.

Mechanically, Daniel walked into his bathroom and stripped himself of his gear. He turned on a light stream of water from the faucet and used it to splash cold water on his face and hair. It did nothing to wake him up. He was still trapped in the blank idea that Lydia's accusation made no sense. He could not have been involved in what she had suggested. He had loved Jacob as he would have a real brother. Jacob had done his best to make Daniel feel welcome and included when he first arrived at the Institute. Surely, Lydia and Elijah could not believe that he would ever hurt any of them.

He reached for his pajamas and pulled them back on. Then he slid back into bed without disturbing Jonah and laid his head upon the pillow. For a long time, he did not sleep. And when he did, his dreams were filled with rivers and demons, lies and truth, humans and faeries.

* * *

It wasn't that Daniel was angry with them; it was, well, that he _was_ angry with them. He'd done his best for six years to become part of the family and to be a good Shadowhunter. He had missed his family and tried not to show it, and he had genuinely grown to care for the Silverwells. So actually, he decided, he wasn't angry after all. He was seething.

He had been sitting in the library for two hours, waiting for his tutor to come, when he realized that Lydia had suspended _all_ forms of his training – including his education. When he'd figured that out, he'd promptly re-shelved the book he'd been reading to pass the time and stalked out, trying not to mutter profanities under his breath. It had been getting harder and harder during the past five days.

He would hear voices at breakfast, all of which would stop as he appeared in the doorway. He would catch glimpses of Lydia watching him as he read in the library, as if his reading were somehow sinister. Elijah would observe him as he tuned the cello in the music room and raised his bow to play. Elijah had never much cared for music before, and Daniel didn't think he'd developed a sudden appreciation for moody classical pieces. No, Elijah was definitely spying on him.

Staying in his room didn't help, either. He had a modicum of privacy in there, but the moment he came out, Elijah or Lydia would watch him like a hawk. That, or he would find them whispering to each other in another room, or a hallway. They always stopped when he arrived. They were frosty, too. Katya had put it down to their escapade in the night, but Daniel knew it wasn't just that. Neither of them treated Katya like a pariah. Clearly Daniel had been blamed for everything. Of course, he _had_ come up with the idea to go hunting in the middle of the night, but he had had _nothing whatsoever_ to do with Jacob's death.

Daniel stalked with a vengeance down the hall and back to his room. As he stepped inside, he realized that his t-shirt had slipped to reveal the chain with the Seelie Queen's pendant. He pulled the edge quickly back over it. More than ever, he knew he couldn't allow the Silverwells to see it. The suspicion would never pass if he did. Association with the Fey Folk would damn him as surely as Lucifer's pride.

He picked up his Russian history book again, and then promptly threw it down – on the bed, so as not to attract attention. He dropped down and looked under his bed for another book that might interest him, but none grabbed his attention. He almost picked out _Divine Comedy_ – in the original Italian, of course – but then decided he would rather burn it than read it. So that was that.

He stood up, frustrated, and suppressed the urge to scream. That would bring someone running, if they weren't both already at his door. Instead, he pulled open his dresser drawer and pulled out a clean pair of jeans and underwear. Then he headed into his bathroom for a cold shower. It might clear his head, and that would be a good thing. If he didn't calm down soon enough, he was going to smash his window with his bare hands and then break his desk and throw the pieces out. And he liked that desk, so the shower was definitely a better alternative.

The cold water felt like a gentle rain. Not a short summer rain like they had in Boston, or one of their freezing, fierce storms, but more of a soft spring patter. It felt like home – like Ireland – when everything was turning so green again after the winter. He closed his eyes and remembered the sweet emerald hills that had rolled on all around his family's estate. He remembered rolling down them with a sister he had not seen for six years. Rachel. She would be eighteen now, with all the rights of an adult with the Clave. She would not be the solemn little girl he remembered who had only smiled when they played together on the hills. Rachel would be a woman now, perhaps slender and willowy like their mother, but with their father's steel. That was how she had always been. Their mother's looks and their father's disposition. She would have understood him. They all would have. Who cared about their history, anyway? He didn't know anything about that. He just knew that his family had loved him.

He stepped out of the shower and pulled on his pants. His skin felt cool and light, so he didn't bother with picking out a new shirt. He only glanced briefly at the patterns of runes and scars twining across his upper body, and then turned and left the bathroom. He flopped wearily onto his bed and started to play with his pendant, turning it back and forth and holding it up to the light at different angles. It seemed to focus the light extremely well, so he let it rest against his sternum again before he could light something on fire. That would do nothing to help his status with Elijah and Lydia.

Not long later, Elijah knocked on his door and called him up to dinner.

He called that he was coming and rooted around in his drawers until he found a new t-shirt and a button up that would cover the chain. He pulled them on hurriedly and flung open the door. He nearly collided with Elijah, who was still standing just outside.

"Sorry," he muttered, looking down.

Elijah only grunted in reply. Daniel looked at him uncertainly, and then began the ascent to the dining room. After about two steps, Elijah started to follow him. It gave Daniel the uneasy feeling that he was being escorted, like a criminal. He resisted the urge to look behind or play with his pendant, instead trying to walk as if everything were normal and this new development didn't bother him. He was pretty sure it wasn't working.

They finally made it to the table, where the rest of the family was already waiting. Lydia watched him like a hawk as he took his usual seat and placed his napkin in his lap. Katya and Jonah both avoided looking at him, although Jonah kept peering up at him with squirmy little glances.

Everyone began eating in silence. Daniel felt more as if he had just entered a courtroom and was awaiting his trial. He barely even knew what he was eating as he tried to ponder what the older two Silverwells had told the younger two. He was reaching for his drink when Jonah couldn't contain himself any longer.

"Daddy and Aunt Lydia won't let me play with you."

He looked up sharply but said mildly, "Why's that, Jonah?"

Lydia tried to shush Jonah, but the little boy couldn't stop. "They told me I can't sleep in your room, either."

"Why did they say that?" Daniel repeated.

"Jonah!" Elijah said sharply. The boy sniffled and looked back down at his plate.

"Well, then?" Daniel pushed. "Why did you say that?"

They met each other's gazes unflinchingly. Daniel had to set down his glass to avoid crushing it in his fist. Elijah did not say anything. Daniel turned to Katya, who was still trying to pretend as if nothing was wrong.

"What did he say? Katya, what did they tell you?"

She looked between her elders and Daniel. Then, ignoring their warning looks, she answered, "They said you might have been involved in Jacob's…in what happened to Jacob. They said we can't trust you, and that we shouldn't spend time with you alone…They said it's too risky."

Daniel asked in a low voice, "Do you believe them?"

She looked at him, and then just shook her head. "I can't."

The sigh of relief would come later, but for now, he still wanted to break a window.

"And why did you say that? Tell me why!" Daniel burst out at his accusers. "What sign did I ever give you? By the Angel, tell me why!"

"Just look at you now! Don't think I never saw this coming!" Lydia replied.

"Look at me now? That's your answer – _look at me now_?"

Katya jumped in. "You just accused him of _murdering_ someone he loved! What's he supposed to look like?"

Jonah started to cry. Everyone turned to him abruptly, as if they had forgotten that he was there.

"Go downstairs, Jonah," Elijah said in a low voice.

Jonah didn't move. Lydia grabbed him by the hand and took him down the stairs. In the silence, Daniel looked out the window at the darkening sky. His jaw was clenched so tightly it was starting to hurt, but he didn't know what to do. To start, he didn't know why he was under so much suspicion, because that all relied on what his family had done in the past. And he didn't know any of that. What, he wondered, could possibly make Elijah and Lydia think that he knew, given that his parents hadn't even told him why they were sending him away? And then…

"Why was it you?" he blurted out, just as Lydia was re-entering.

"What?" she and Elijah exclaimed in unison.

"Why did my family send me to _you_? How did you know them?"

Lydia glared at him. "Don't change the subject, Daniel."

"The first one was nonsense."

The room plunged into a deadly silence. Katya was gaping at Daniel – that was the sort of thing she might have said, but she never would have imagined that he could be so disrespectful.

Elijah growled, "_Nonsense? _Tell us, why is this _nonsense_?"

"Because I don't know what's going on! I don't know what signs you thought you saw, or who you think I am, or what I did to earn this! I don't know! _You are making absolutely no sense!_"

The slap echoed across the room. Daniel's head turned sideways towards his shoulder. His hand reached automatically for his cheek, but it was still numb to the pain. The silence descended again, but even Lydia looked shocked at what Elijah had done. In the six years that he had been with the Silverwells, none of them had ever laid a hand on him, except in training. As far as Daniel knew, Elijah had never hit any of his children.

"Don't play innocent," he said in a low voice. "Your family is much too good at that."

Daniel hesitated. His eyes were starting to water from the slap. "…Then they did that with me, too," he whispered. "They were always good. That's all."

He looked back up at Elijah. The man's eyes were unwaveringly cold. "I should never have listened to her. I should never have taken you."

"Father…" Katya implored.

"Go to bed, Katya."

"But Father…Daniel…I mean…"

"Listen to your father," Lydia said quietly.

Katya glared up at them both. Then she squeezed Daniel's arm and fairly ran down the stairs. The crash when she closed her door was audible from the dining room. Daniel flinched. Lydia walked over to Elijah and whispered something in his ear. He didn't react at first. Daniel's heart fluttered in his stomach and he bit his lip so hard it bled.

Finally, Elijah said, "I'll deal with you later. From now on, you're not to leave your bedroom unless I allow you to. Is that clear?"

Daniel nodded but couldn't meet Elijah's eyes. "Yes, sir."

Lydia grabbed him by the arm and marched him to his room without saying a word. She opened the door and pulled him inside. Glancing around, she located his stele, took it, and marched out. Then the door slammed shut and he was alone in the darkness.

Daniel found the switch on his lamp and flicked it on. He shrugged off the button-up and walked over to his window. The curtains were not drawn, and he could see a dim reflection in the glass. He looked young, pale, and scared. His eyes were wide and he appeared as if he had just witnessed a murder. The bruise on his cheek was already darkening, covering the area from his cheekbone to his jaw. It was darkest where the heel of Elijah's hand had struck him. Daniel lunged forward and pulled the curtains shut. Then he stood, staring at them, trying to process what had just happened. Trying to figure out if Elijah planned to send him away, or perhaps summon the Inquisitor.

It was possible. There was still and investigation going on. There hadn't been a funeral yet because the Conclave still felt they needed Jacob's body. Daniel was sure the Clave itself had heard of it by now, and he had heard that Robert Lightwood was not one to take things like this lightly. And if it happened, they would all know that Daniel was innocent, but they would also find out about Erion Rune and Daniel's visit to the Seelie Court. Neither of which would look particularly good for him, either.

Daniel laid his head down on his desk. Absolutely nothing seemed right, and he had the awful feeling that this was only just the beginning.

After several confused moments, he stood up and went to his door. The doorknob refused to even budge when he twisted it. Daniel groaned aloud. Lydia must have locked it with a rune after she had left. The only way he could get out now would be if he broke his window and jumped. But although he was confused, angry, grieving, and desperately tired, he was not suicidal. So he was stuck. Unless…he pulled out his pendant and looked at it again. He could leave if the Seelie Queen wanted him, and he very much desired to speak with her again. Of course, the question of how he got out would as good as incriminate him with the Silverwells, but maybe he wouldn't have to come back to the Institute. One could hope. Things would probably be better that way.

* * *

**Okay, hello people of Earth. I'm happy to say, I've actually had time to work on this chapter, despite AP tests happening just last week. This is my last year, so I promise, that's the last time I'll use that excuse. I think. By the way, poor Daniel. I swear I'm not cruel to people in real life. Well, one-third of me isn't, at least. Thankfully, that's my dominant third. I'm hoping to get the next chapter out within the next few weeks, and I'm also restarting work on my other story, _Dry Lightning_, so check that one out, please. Now, if you don't mind, or even if you do, please review, follow, and/or favorite. But most especially - review. Thanks!**

**\- Gael**


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Daniel was lying flat on his back on his bed, his arms straight up above him. He had a book of Irish fairytales in his hands instead of his usual history book. These were the stories he had learned as a child. They had been the real magic; the fairytales that Shadowhunter children often missed, learning instead that all the stories were true. To be honest, he didn't know whether or not they were true, but his parents had never told him that they were.

He sat upright as the door clicked open. He tried to guess whether it would be Elijah or Lydia, but he couldn't decide. Maybe Lydia because Elijah had been the last one to come in around noon. Neither of them had even remembered to feed him dinner that evening. He'd had half a feeling that they were neglecting him on purpose, but then, why would they remember him now? It was past sunset.

"Hi, Daniel," Katya chirped.

He froze. "What are you doing here?"

She raised her stele and wiggled it with a grin. "I broke in."

"Elijah and Lydia will catch you." He tried and failed to sound disapproving.

Katya shrugged. "They aren't even here. They left this evening in a rush."

"Oh." Daniel watched Katya sit on the bed next to him. "That explains why I didn't get dinner this evening."

"You didn't? That's horrible. Let me get you something. What do you want?"

He thought about it for a brief moment.

"Anything. Do we have oranges?"

"Sure. Jonah!"

The little boy scampered in, jumped up on the bed, and threw his arms around Daniel. Daniel grinned and hugged him back, abandoning his book.

"I missed you. I wanted to come in and see you, but I couldn't undo the runes. Dad's being mean about you."

Katya rolled her eyes. "He knows. He's hungry. He wants you to go get him an orange."

"Okay!"

He ran out of the room at top speed.

Daniel laughed, and Katya said, "He's so ridiculous. He's probably going to trip going up the stairs."

"He'll be a great Shadowhunter."

Her eyes darkened. "Great Shadowhunters all die."

"Not Jace Herondale. Clarissa Morgenstern. They fought Sebastian Morgenstern, and they lived."

He had seen them once, in Idris three years ago. They were so recognizable, each of them by the color of their hair. Gold and red. They had been coming out from an alley. Jace had looked nonchalant and confident, but Clary kept glancing back at one of the walls, as if she were checking to see if it were on fire, or still there, or something like that. He had seen them while he was wandering around, hoping that his family had come and that he might see them. Neither of those wishes had come true.

"But so many of us died. Those two aren't the only great Shadowhunters that ever lived. They're just some of the only ones that are still living. Sure, we'll have new ones – I hear Emma Carstairs is some sort of prodigy – but how long will it be until they die too? I don't want my little brother to be one of them."

"The risk that you might die is never a reason not to live. Anyone can die. Mundanes die all the time, killing each other in wars with new and always more dangerous weapons, and they don't know the Shadow World. Most of them never will. We have to take chances. We have to be daring and brave, and that makes life worth living. Even if there are consequences."

"Like getting locked in your bedroom?" Katya asked.

They both laughed, dissipating the tension.

"Yes. That's exactly what I was referring to."

"Poor, poor Danny Boy. Hey, isn't that a song?"

He groaned. "Yes. It's Irish."

"Perfect!"

"Yeah, it's wonderful. I'm sure no one has ever made that joke about Irish Daniels before and this is an entirely new brand of wit."

"Oh, don't take it so seriously. What is that, by the way?" She pointed at the chain, which was showing again.

He made an effort not to cover it up. "It's just an old necklace. I brought it with me from home, but I thought I'd lost it. I just found it the other day."

"Where did you find it?"

He paused. "In the pocket of an old coat. It was in the back of my closet, and I'd thought I'd gotten rid of it years ago, too."

"Can I see it?"

He froze. "No."

"Why not?"

"It's just…you can't." All sorts of adjectives for flowers came to mind, but he couldn't think of a single reason for not showing the pendant to Katya.

"Oh, come on, Danny Boy. Is it pretty?"

Well, yes. "No," he said tersely.

"Is it going to mess up your whole dark and sullen look?"

"I do not have a 'dark and sullen look.'"

"Do too. You wear dark clothing and you have dark hair and dark eyes, and you always have this brooding look on your face. When you were little, it was adorable."

"What, not anymore?" he said sarcastically.

Her cheeks reddened slightly. It didn't seem like she was going to reply, so he added, "And…how long can it take for Jonah to get an orange? It's been ages."

"Good question," Katya said quickly. She seemed glad of the change in subject. "Jonah! Where are you?"

They paused for a few seconds, but there was no reply. Daniel called him again. When he didn't respond, the two exchanged worried looks. But just as Katya was about to shout for him a third time, he appeared at the door frame. He stood half-hidden by it, looking almost too shy to come in. Daniel and Katya exchanged another look.

Jonah said, "The basement is making noises."

"What were you doing in the basement? Oranges are on the third floor," Katya asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Well, I was going to go get one, but they're up too high for me to reach, and someone put the stepstool away. So I went down to the basement to go get it, but the basement was making funny noises, and I couldn't tell Aunt Lydia or Dad because they're not here. And I wanted to get Daniel's orange. But I was scared, so I came back up…"

"What kind of noises?" Daniel asked.

"Weird growling noises. And a lot of shuffling and knocking things around. It sounds like there could be demons or something." He bit his lower lip. "I don't know what to do."

"You're just hearing things, Jonah. Demons can't get inside the Institute," Katya said dismissively.

Daniel, on the other hand, said, "Do you want me to go check it?"

Jonah nodded vigorously. Daniel held out his hand for Katya's stele. She shook her head in mock disapproval and handed it to him. He tossed it in the air so that it flipped once, and then caught it again, looking back at her with a grin.

"Rebel," she admonished.

"Speak for yourself," he said, gesturing at the door. The Opening rune was very clearly etched near the knob. There was no doubt Elijah and Lydia would find out she had broken in when they came back.

She rolled her eyes and stretched out on his bed. He responded in kind and then walked away. Jonah caught his hand and scampered after him.

"You believe me, right?"

"Of course I believe you. That's why I'm checking…I don't know how anything could get down there, though."

That worried him. He wasn't sure what was going on, but he couldn't rule out the possibility of some sort of foul play. Or perhaps the older two Silverwells had found something. But why keep it locked in the basement? Something was definitely up. He stopped Jonah on the first floor.

"I want you to wait here."

"But, Daniel – "

"No. I don't know what could be down there, and you haven't even started training yet. Wait right here and don't move until I tell you to."

_Or unless something tries to hurt you_, he thought. But it would be better not to scare him. For all he knew, someone was just hiding a cat down there. Although that wasn't particularly likely.

He looked back to make sure Jonah wasn't following him. The little boy stood still as a statue right where he had left him. His eyes were wide and solemn. Daniel approached the door that led to the basement. He pressed his ear to it, but everything was silent. He listened for a few more seconds and thought he heard something scuffing the floor by the bottom of the staircase. He quickly scrawled a few Marks on his arms – agility, strength, balance – and then opened the door cautiously. Nothing jumped out at him, but everything was pitch black. He couldn't see to the bottom of the stairs.

One step down. Two, and then he jumped as something charged forward with a roar. It was too massive to avoid completely, and it knocked him head first against a wall. He blinked several times, trying to clear his head. What happened instead was that his eyes adjusted to the light, and he saw the Forsaken looming over him, ready to move in for the kill. There was at least one more on the staircase. He rolled out of the way, and then dove between the creature's legs to make it back up the stairs.

"Run, Jonah!" he shouted. "Run!"

He wasn't sure if the boy had obeyed him or not, but he didn't have time to check. He pulled out the knife he usually kept in his boot. It seemed a poor defense against the Forsaken. There was one on each side of him now, and he could tell there was another coming up the stairs.

One lunged at him, and he spun and slashed at its arm. He flipped backward to avoid the swing from its other arm. Then he spun onto his knees and sliced the back of the second Forsaken's knee. It gave a cry of pain as its leg gave out. He jumped out of its way, and then darted forward and cut its throat. Blood spattered across his chest and stomach, and he couldn't help but thank the Angel that it wasn't demon blood.

A knife flew and embedded itself in the side of the first Forsaken's head, and Daniel turned to see Katya as she grabbed Jonah by the arm and led him to the door. He tried to follow them, but the third Forsaken lashed out and hit him squarely on the ribs. He flew back and hit the floor with a crash. He wouldn't doubt it if something had broken, but the adrenaline rush kept him from noticing much pain.

The Forsaken charged Jonah and Katya, so Daniel threw his knife too, hitting the Forsaken in the neck and giving the others enough time to flee out the door.

"By the Angel!" he cursed as a fourth creature blocked his path to the door. He still had his stele, but he was now weaponless.

So he ran. He sprinted up the stairs to the weapons room, listening to the Forsaken charging after him. He closed the door and slapped a Sealing rune on it. The door had been wide open, suggesting that Katya had probably been there. He could barely breathe and was starting to cough. He spat, and blood fell onto the floor. He cursed again, lifted his shirt, and shakily drew an _iratze_ onto his already bruised chest. It stung for a moment, and then the pain began to disappear. He tucked the stele into his pocket. Something shook the door, and he heard a boy scream from outside.

He grabbed a seraph blade and named it, running to the window and throwing the curtains aside. About ten Raums and Raveners assaulted Katya and Jonah. Katya was doing her best to protect her brother, but with that many, it wouldn't be good enough. Daniel grabbed a lance and slammed it through the window, shattering the glass. Then he jumped through, not caring when he nicked himself on the broken edges. He landed neatly on an overhang about one story up, and then jumped down from there, landing next to the Silverwell children.

Katya slashed clean through one of the Raveners, but Jonah cried out as it splashed him with demon blood. Daniel whirled around drove his seraph blade into the back of another Ravener's neck. He jumped sideways as a Raum lunged at him and then slashed at a Ravener that was trying to sneak up on him. There was a gap in the circle of attackers.

"Katya," Daniel yelled. "Let's go!"

If Jonah hadn't been there, they might have tried to fight them all, but they couldn't let anything happen to him. So they both grabbed him at the same time, and took off running. Katya jerked him up into her arms. Daniel stayed a couple steps behind them, slashing and hacking at any demon that tried to approach. Something huge flew over all their heads and landed in front of them.

It was a Scorpios demon. He could tell because of the slimy, milky yellow eyes and the wicked stinger. The grotesque hands and face, too. He had only ever seen pictures of these, but he knew that it was a Scorpios that had killed the last Inquisitor. He leveled his seraph blade at him. It hissed, and then its hisses turned to words.

"Do not fight," it said, even as it prepared itself to attack. "I will kill…"

There was obvious pleasure in its voice as it threatened that. In that moment, Daniel knew that it had been sent. It must have had a task. Otherwise, it would not have spoken, and it would simply have attacked them. He lowered his blade but kept his guard up. Other demons were approaching from behind. Katya, however, did not have the same reaction.

She pushed Jonah back towards Daniel and jumped at the Scorpios. It moved out of the way incredibly quickly, and she rolled and came up on her feet. Daniel stepped in front of Jonah and raised his blade again.

Without looking back at the boy, he said, "When I tell you to, run, and don't look back."

Jonah didn't answer, but Daniel had to hope he had heard him. Daniel ran toward the demon, threw himself to his knees, and slashed upwards at the deadly tail. The Scorpios evaded both him and Katya easily, and nearly managed to stab Daniel in the neck in the meantime. Daniel grimaced. Neither he nor Katya was wearing gear, making them both extremely vulnerable targets.

The two wove in and out around the demon, flipping and darting in occasionally to swipe at the demon. They never came close to wounding it, and Daniel knew it was playing with them. It was like a horrible cat, playing games with its prey before the kill. And it seemed that there _would _be a kill. Neither of them even had all the Marks that they should have, and they were swiftly growing tired.

Jonah screamed, and Daniel whirled around to kill the Ravener that was about to attack. Too late – as he was already in the act of slashing through it – he realized his mistake. He spun away as quickly as he could, but something cold and sharp pierced his arm. He saw the tip of the stinger protrude through the other side, and his arm seized and dropped the blade. As he collapsed, he caught the blade in his other hand and swung it wildly towards the retreating stinger.

He felt the blade bite into something, and yelled, "Now, Jonah!"

The stinger fell to the ground and the Scorpios screamed in pain. It was more of a rattling noise, really, but the meaning was clear enough. Daniel curled in around his arm as demon blood rained down on him. He could barely breathe.

Katya threw her arms around his waist and tugged him to his feet. He gulped deep, frantic breaths to try to drown the pain. She was talking to him. Then she was drawing a Mark on his arm that did nothing to relieve the burning that kept spreading.

"We have to run, now," she told him, tugging him forward. His feet followed reluctantly. "We have to go. You'll be fine, but we have to go."

He did his best to gulp down the pain and follow her and Jonah, who was not too far ahead. He held his arm to his chest and felt the blood seeping through his shirt. It was not bleeding too badly, despite the severity of the wound, but it throbbed with every step, and his veins were black near the edges of the injury. Scorpios were definitely venomous.

A few minutes later, his adrenaline rush was dying down once more, and he began to stumble. Katya grabbed him again. She pulled him close so that he could lean on her. He noticed vaguely that he had grown taller than she was now.

"It's okay, Daniel," she said. "I've got you. We're safe now."

They were walking around the middle of Boston, at night, far from help. The mundanes who saw them simply passed by. Then again, it wasn't as if they could really have helped. And Daniel doubted that there was enough light on the street for them to tell he was injured, rather than stoned. In any case, they were anything but safe.

They walked up a hill and Katya guided him to the left. He was not sure where she was trying to take them. He was equally unsure that Katya herself knew. They passed yet another very tall, brick building. It was summer, so Daniel knew that it wasn't cold, but he was freezing. He looked down at his arm. The black had spread almost an inch both up and down his arm.

"Where are we going?" Jonah whispered finally.

Katya hesitated. "…To New York. That's where Dad and Lydia went. We'll go to the New York Institute."

"Katya, I – " Daniel started.

She cut him off. "No. You're going to make it that far. We just have to make it to the subway, and then you can rest. We're going to make it."

_No, I'm not_, he thought. There was a chance he could make it onto the subway, but then he would probably pass out and die on the train. Or waiting for it in the station.

"Can't we just…just…"

"Just what?" Katya said.

"Go to someone…in the Conclave."

"What if…one of them sent the demons?"

"…I…don't know."

The next moment, Katya stopped them and put on a glamour, so that they wouldn't have to pay to get onto the train. Two seconds later, when they should have been invisible, a man put out his hand and stopped them. A shiver ran down Daniel's spine. A shifter. It had to be a shape shifter. A demon, which was now resting his hand on Jonah's head. Jonah wriggled uncomfortably but didn't move away.

"How can I help you?" he said.

Definitely, _definitely_ not human. Daniel's energy was building up again, sensing another fight. His pulse quickened and he felt some strength come back into his limbs.

"You can't," Katya said guardedly. Daniel knew she could tell. "We're on our way home, and we're already late."

Of course, the demon knew that was a lie. He reached out an arm to wrap around Jonah, but Katya got there first and tugged him to her.

"Home indeed," the demon said, looking straight at Daniel.

Daniel suppressed another shiver.

The demon's eyes flashed wickedly. "My friends and I would be happy to show you the way.

The shadows were moving, revealing more demons as he spoke. Katya let go of Daniel, and he managed to straighten up. Then, before anything else could happen, she drew a knife and thrust it into the demon's chest. They ran again.

Daniel sprinted without thinking, as fast as his poisoned body would let him. He turned a corner, saw a T station, and ran for it. He didn't notice until he reached the steps that Katya and Jonah were no longer with him. Still, he knew that if he turned back, he would never make it. So he kept running, vaulted one armed over the checkpoint and jumped just in time onto the train that would take him to Cambridge.

The only thought that ran through his head as he sat on the train was that he needed to talk to the warlock. The warlock had known something about what was coming. The warlock would be able to help. Daniel was almost sure he lived at Raven, and maybe he would let him in. He would have to, right? Sure, and Katya would have to learn to tap dance while standing on her head, while he was at it. No one _had_ to do anything.

The car of the train took a sudden swoop, and Daniel groaned. Aside from the fact that barely anyone was on the train, the glamour seemed to be working, and nobody noticed. Daniel looked down at his arm again. It wasn't really bleeding, but the blackness was still spreading up and down his veins, now past his elbow on one side and almost to his shoulder on the other. He tried to move his fingers and suppressed a scream. He lay down across several seats and tried to just breathe deeply without losing consciousness. It was harder than it sounded. The train jerked to a halt.

Daniel gasped, and everything started to go fuzzy. _A dark name for a dark past…_

_No, Joshua, no. You can't ask that. You must promise me you will never ask that…I know it doesn't make sense…No, Joshua. I hope that it never will. Goodbye, sweetheart…We will not speak again. Be good. Be strong. Be brave. Goodbye._

He almost missed his stop, pulling himself back from the encroaching darkness and jumping off the train just before the doors closed. There were dark, greenish spots in his vision now, and he gripped the rail of the stairs with all his might to avoid collapsing on the spot. He was hot and cold at the same time, and the air was thick and confining.

Finally, he stumbled onto the sidewalk next to Harvard Yard. The air was cooler, and he gulped it down, telling himself that he was almost there, almost there. He crossed the street against the light and staggered down the island in the center of the street, past the newsstand and the spot where a man made and sold paintings all day. Then he was pushing himself onward, step by step down JFK Street until he reached Raven. He almost fell down the steps.

If he hadn't been so ill, almost unconscious, he would have been alarmed that the door was still open and the light was still on. As it was he thought it might be a good sign. He walked in. He gasped in shock.

An entire bookcase had been knocked down, and the walls were singed. The whole place stunk of magic, and the floor was littered with ruined books. He weakly took another step or two forward. He jerked back as his feet landed in something wet. He looked down. Blood. Daniel went weak at the knees – well, weaker than he already was – and had to catch himself on a bookcase. That was bloody, too. Daniel started to gasp for breath, in and out, in and out. The world was reeling around him again. Books and blood spun, but he was still.

The warlock – Erion Rune – was dead. He must have been. Maybe kidnapped, but if all that blood was his, then dead. Someone had known. Someone had to have known about his tenuous connection with Daniel, must have figured out that Daniel would come to him for help and for answers.

Someone behind Daniel cleared his throat. Daniel turned slowly, reluctantly, and carefully. There were dark spots all over his vision – so many that he could barely make out the figure, but enough for him to be taken aback by its appearance.

It was an Asian warlock with narrow cat eyes, a multicolored scarf, a gothic style leather jacket, and tight, studded grey skinny jeans – a description which did not really do justice to the look. Daniel thought that perhaps he might be hallucinating, but then wondered how his mind could even have come up with that. The warlock reached his hand out towards Daniel, but Daniel panicked and stepped back. His body failed to hold him up any longer, and he collapsed. The warlock continued towards him. But just as he was about to reach Daniel, Daniel's pendant pulsed, warm against his skin. He reached up and touched the jewel, and then everything was gone.

* * *

**Hello! This may be the fastest I've ever gotten a chapter out. Hooray for the end of APs! As much as I love taking three-and-a-half hour tests that really take four hours, I'm not sad they're over and done with. I've actually had time to write since then, and it's so much easier to think when you don't have to worry about remembering the harmonics of a closed pipe, the area of a polar graph, or any variety of other things I had to learn. None of those things involved Shadowhunters or other fantasy characters, so that was disappointing. Anyway, I'm looking forward to writing more on the Seelie Court, and bringing in a few canon characters - I haven't decided how many yet. Comments, questions, concerns, cats? Let me know.**


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